Earl Grey
by Cerulean.Phoenix7
Summary: There is nothing quite as inconspicuous as a cup of tea.


Earl Grey

A/N: This is a slightly different take on the ending to 3.17 'Stowaway'.

Disclaimer: I own Fringe about as much as I own Skittles... In other words I don't own either :P

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His footsteps were like metal snowflakes as he strolled in the door, they drifted and then clacked against the wood like nails. Bell heard him from the kitchen as he wrapped his hands around a steaming cup of tea; the sight of Olivia Dunham's hands grasping the cup still unsettled him slightly.

Indeed he was not accustomed to this.

It took Peter a moment to see him standing there in the kitchen, inhabiting the body of a woman who was clearly more than a college. It was the way his eyes drooped like withered leaves and some of the colour drained from his face.

He was already pale enough as it was.

He poured another cup of Early Grey for Peter and set it down before him.

He had also served Olivia Earl Grey when he brought her to the other side.

Bell watched as Peter sat and sipped the tea slowly and he knew that Peter was not used to it. The way his mouth puckered slightly and his hand clenched on the handle of the tea cup gave it away.

How was that to be unexpected, surely anyone who watched someone that they perceived as dead take control of someone else's body would be slightly unnerved.

It was surely not the only thing that was unnerving to Peter Bishop at the current time.

Fate enjoyed those kinds of games, where the anxiety clawed at people through the entire match so that even the winner would bear some mark of duress. Dana Grey had been a pawn of those games and the results of that game would surely unnerve even the most steeled individuals.

"Don't you think that it's curious we meet a woman who is unable to die at the exact moment my consciousness seemingly... returns from the grave?"

Peter blinked several times, Bell wondered if perhaps there was something in his eye... or if he was trying to wake himself from what one could classify as a very strange dream.

"As a scientist I live to believe that nothing just happens... that every event has some message, some meaning, you just have to be close enough to hear it."

They both listened as thick church bells tolled in the distance; Peter's hand curved around the rim of his mug.

It was unfortunate that he didn't know how ideal Earl Grey was for making a rather unique cup of tea, especially when the aforementioned tea contained soul magnets. But then of course that would put a slight damper on his plans and that couldn't be allowed.

His results had shown a suitable host, but of course if he mentioned anything Bell knew that both Walter and Peter would have become livid at the very suggestion.

Like father like son.

And that was when he knew that something was happening, something _changed_. It was as if he was infinite and finite simultaneously, free to mingle amongst the air yet compacted into a mass of energy. He saw Olivia below at the table, a dazed realisation crawling over her face as delight spread over Peter's.

It was unfortunate that he would have to infringe upon such a delight.

But when he made his way to Peter's brain and tried to weave his way into his consciousness he was struck by a barrier, something altogether fascinating and disconcerting.

He could go no further.

The pull of the soul magnets in Olivia drew him back from the barrier in Peter and he creased his brow when he was back in Olivia's body.

"Oh no," he sighed.

Peter's confusion was like mural; chaotic and wide-spread over his face. Whether he realised that Bell had tried to posses him only moments ago he couldn't tell.

Bell spoke before Peter could get out a single question: "This may be a little more complicated... than I first thought."

"Bell... what just happened?" Peter asked.

He felt his face crease before he said the only thing that came to mind: "I'm not sure."

He truly wasn't, it was as if he wasn't _meant_ to transfer his consciousness into Peter.

It was a much more frightening truth than he liked to admit.

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